


dying stars in our eyes

by hamartiawrites



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Depression, Gen, Pre-Series, Young Victor Nikiforov, also if you ever know anyone like this, animal cruelty, in a way but don't worry it's very minimal and viktor feels very bad about it, note how i said 'yet' because there is always a chance for a happy ending, or going through this, please help them as much as you can, there is no happy ending yet, yes the title is from dear evan hansen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamartiawrites/pseuds/hamartiawrites
Summary: "Fuckoff, you good for nothing mutt!"Makkachin's eyes widen, and she skitters back, heart pounding. She has never, ever in her life been shouted at by Viktor. Viktor was always the kindest human she had ever met, the person who was always smiling no matter what the situation, who would lightly scold her but still look at her with so much affection.Viktor hasnevershouted, and Viktor hasneverlooked at her with such desperation in his eyes. It's something that scares Makkachin - how her beloved human can look so hopeless and lost after being so happy just a few hours before.





	dying stars in our eyes

"Fuck _off_ , you good for nothing mutt!"

Makkachin's eyes widen, and she skitters back, heart pounding. She has never, ever in her life been shouted at by Viktor. Viktor was always the kindest human she had ever met, the person who was always smiling no matter what the situation, who would lightly scold her but still look at her with so much affection. 

Viktor has _never_ shouted, and Viktor has _never_ looked at her with such desperation in his eyes. It's something that scares Makkachin - how her beloved human can look so hopeless and lost after being so happy just a few hours before. 

Tentatively, because Makkachin still cares for her mess of a human, she takes a step forward, tilting her head curiously at him. Viktor doesn't seem to notice, to busy chugging down a dark liquid from a clear bottle. Makkachin doesn't know what it is, but she has this gut feeling it isn't good for him, so she does what she feels is right and comes closer so that she can tug on his pant leg with her mouth. 

Bad decision. 

"What the _fuck_!" Viktor just about yells, and he drunkedly swings the bottle - it goes flying out of his hands, hitting the nearby wall and scattering dangerously sharp glass shards. "I told you to stay _away_ , you useless piece of shit!" 

I will _not_ , Makkachin decides, keeping her ground and continuing to tug at her owner, trying to get him to sit. Maybe sitting will help calm him down, or maybe it will relax him- 

Makkachin yelps, rearing back and letting go of the pant momentarily, in shock as she registers the pain that's making its way across her snout. She refuses to believe it's true, that _Viktor_ would do such a thing but- 

"I - you - you fucking _deserve_ that." Viktor slurs. Tear tracks that stain Viktor's face allow more tears to continuously slip down his face, and his mouth is contorted into what seems like a painful grimace, and he is drunk, so drunk, but this is the truest Viktor has been. 

Makkachin whines - a warning, a plea for Viktor to just stop it and sit down, for him to go to sleep or watch TV, because at this rate he's going to do things that will make him sad and Makkachin has never wished to see Viktor sad - but it goes unheard, and Viktor lets out a heartless chuckle as he tugs at the ends of his hair. 

"You fucking deserve that." he continues, shaking, gripping his hair tighter in closed fists. "You - that's what people _get_ when they don't do what people say, that's what - that's what they get when they're different, and it's - it's your _fault_ for not listening in the first place!" 

Makkachin whines again, circling nervously. She watches Viktor with careful eyes, and notices how broken he looks, how sad and lonely and - 

"It fucking _hurts_." Viktor chokes out a sob. His eyes land on his distressed poodle and the sight seems to enrage him even more. "It fucking hurts, _doesn't it?_ That all this _fucking_ time you've just wanted to be _kind_ and _friendly_ and _happy_ and you just _want to- to help_ , you just - you - you _just_ -" 

A shuddery sigh. Viktor runs a hand through his hair and looks out towards the direction of the kitchen, closing his eyes tight and pursing his lips together. 

"I just want to be happy." Viktor's voice is small, and Makkachin whines softly, inching closer. Viktor doesn't notice, not this time. "For once, I just - just once - I want to feel like I'm part of _something_. I don't - I don't want to be the Living Legend, I don't want to be Russia's Hero, I don't want all the _fake attention_ , I - I want to be someone's friend." 

The tears fall to the floor. Makkachin whines, nudging and nudging, practically begging Viktor to _please sit down_ but it doesn't work - Viktor only laughs a broken laugh and tilts his head back to gaze brokenly at the chandelier that hangs from their ceiling. 

"I'm never going to get that." he whispers to no one in particular. "I'm never - no one's ever going to want to invite me out to parties with friends, no one's ever going to want to ask me to go out shopping with them, no one's ever going to have inside jokes with me, no one, _no one_ , because I'm _Viktor Nikiforov_ and that's all I'll _fucking be_ and as soon as I'm done with skating I might as well be fucking _dead_."

Makkachin has never wished she could speak more than she did at the moment, resigned to only whines and nudges to reassure Viktor that she would be there, that she didn't care what he did as soon as he left the house because he was Viktor and he was the best thing that had happened to Makkachin - but Makkachin can't talk. Makkachin can only watch helplessly as her poor human tears himself apart bit by bit. 

"You know - d'you know what they told me, hm?" Viktor laughs. "They - they told me - they told me to _fuck off and shut the fuck up._ " 

Makkachin whimpers, nudging closer to Viktor, to maybe get under his arm, maybe _that_ will work, it's always worked before, it has to- 

"They - they told me that they didn't _care_ , Makkachin." Viktor wheezes, like it's the funniest thing he's heard all week. "They told me that they didn't want to hang out with _Perfect Winner Viktor Nikiforov_ because I'm _stuck up_ and _arrogant_ and I'm not even that _good_ anyway, so what's so good about me, huh? And who wants to hear some _dumb little shit_ with some _dumb fucking gold medals_ talk about his _dumb little adventures?_ I mean, yeah, who even fucking cares about what _I_ have to say, _huh_?" 

Someone, Makkachin wants to say. Me, and someone who you haven't met. People care. 

"It just - I just wanted to tell them about Paris, Makkachin." Viktor whispers, small and vulnerable, and Makkachin squeezes closer, whine low in her throat. "I just - it was so _beautiful_ , and Papa thought it was beautiful and even _Yakov_ thought it was beautiful and I took so many pictures, I-" 

Viktor's camera drops to the floor. Makkachin whines, goes to retrieve it, but before she can, she hears Viktor fall to the floor and makes a beeline for him, because he is ultimately more important than a mere camera. 

"It hurts so bad, Makkachin." Viktor's body shakes with his sobs, and Makkachin presses impossibly closer, whining and whining and _what can I do what can I do_. "It hurts so _bad_ , I just want people to like _me_ , not just Viktor Nikiforov. Why don't people like me when I'm not skating anymore? What am I doing _wrong_?" 

There is silence. A few minutes pass where Makkachin simply stays in Viktor's grasp, listening to his heartbeats and licking away his tears. 

Then, a gasp. Before Makkachin can understand what's going on, Viktor has Makkachin's face between his hands, and his eyes fill with tears, and Makkachin whines because she doesn't know what to _do_.

But Viktor only takes her into his arms and starts sobbing uncontrollably, choking out apologies between his sobs and hugging her impossibly tight. 

"You didn't deserve that, Makkachin, you -" Viktor chokes out. "You - I don't want to _ever_ hurt you _ever again_ , Makka - _please_. Please don't hate me, I - you're the only one I have left, Makka. _Please don't go._ " 

Makkachin licks his face, whines, tucks herself under his chin as Viktor sobs, lets him hold onto her. She is here - she will always try to be here, especially for Viktor. 

"I'm so sad, Makka." Viktor whispers after calming down a bit, running his fingers through the fur on her back. "Why am I so sad?" 

Makkachin doesn't - can't - know how to answer. Instead, she stays still, lets Viktor pet her, hug her, and just stay with her, on the floor of their living room, listening to cars and bikes pass by. 

On the living room floor, Viktor's camera lays unattended, opened to a photo of Viktor and Makkachin standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. 

The photo, along with everything about Viktor's trip to Paris, will be deleted the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> The reason I have written this story was to let out all the messed up shit I've been keeping to myself for the past few weeks, so, to answer your question, I gave my own problems to Viktor and let the story write itself. 
> 
> So, yeah, this story is based off of everything I've gone through that I can no longer pent up inside me. 
> 
> Please take note: I don't believe that Viktor would hurt Makkachin intentionally. That being said, alcohol and emotional pain never go for a good combination (not that I'd know, minor that I am), and Viktor is too angry to think through what he's doing properly. However, I did make sure to show you all that Viktor does regret his actions and will spend days pampering Makkachin for his mistake.
> 
> I want to say more, but everything I've had to let out is now in the story. Still, I'd love to get a comment from you all telling me what you thought about the story (or a Kudos! That can suffice!) 
> 
> Thank you for your time in reading this! Remember to make people happy today! 
> 
> ((Also, kudos to you if you get where the title is from.))
> 
> (((It's from Dear Evan Hansen, the four lines in Waving Through a Window where Evan goes "We start with stars in our eyes/We start believing that we belong/But every sun doesn't rise/And no one tells you where you went wrong." I just felt like that was fitting, since I have Viktor saying that he doesn't know where he went wrong.)))
> 
> \- izzy


End file.
